Chapter XII: A Fisherman

"He was a man of honour, of noble and generous nature."
LONGFELLOW.

HEATHER had been visiting in the village. She had just come out of Mary Scrivens's cottage, where she had been reading to her; for the poor old woman was confined to her bed with a bad cold. She was making her way across to the village post-office to get some stamps, when she was stopped by old Ralph, who was talking very eagerly to a stranger.

"Here be our young leddy, sir. She can tell you if she don't agree with me, for she's bin to Court herself, and knows the ways of royalty!"

Heather looked up amused, and met the glance of a tall man in fisherman's garb, his basket slung over his shoulder, and rod in his hand.

"What is it, Ralph?" asked Heather, lightly. "You are not going to draw me into a political discussion, are you?"

The stranger raised his hat, and Heather acknowledged it with a dignified little bow. She knew how little these old villagers stood on ceremony with any one. Strangers were few and far between; they saw no reason why "their young leddy" should not "pass the time of day" with a stranger, as well as with any of them. Ralph began at once—

"Me and this gent has been discussin' the clack and fightin' that is just goin' on in the French assembly. I sez it is all for want of a king to keep 'em in order. He sez a president be just as good, but I sticks to what I sez! The countries go to the dogs where there ain't no kings or queens! 'Tis natural, like. Every one for their selves, and all wantin' to climb over each other's heads! He sez Americky is a grand country. I sez it allays has the biggest calamities that ever befalls a nation! The earthquakes, and floods, and fires, all gives it a turn, as if God Almighty shows His disapproval. And, in course, He made the first king—He didn't make a president or a parliament. I b'lieve, now I come to think on't, He tried judges, but they turned out a bad sort, and 'tis kings and queens the Almighty ordains to reign."

"We are very loyal in this part of the country," said Heather, looking at the fisherman with a smile.

"So I perceive. I wonder if you can give me the information I was trying to obtain from our good friend here, before we touched on politics. I want to know if there is a cart track to Willow Pool, which, I am told, is the best spot for trout. They say there is no road, but would it be possible for a wheelchair to get there?"

A light came into Heather's eyes.

"I think you must be Captain Vaughan?" she said. And on receiving an assent, she added, "There is only one locked gate at the end of the large meadow, and I can get you the key of that, for it belongs to us. I hope Miss Vaughan may be able to go with you. Ralph, where is Ted Hind?"

Ralph folded up his paper leisurely, and put it in his pocket.

"Maybe he's gone to market. Maybe he's in the Dragon's Arms."

"Will you step across and ask his wife to give you the key of the water meadow gate? And then bring it to this gentleman."

"Maybe she's out in the fields."

Heather looked at the unwilling old man rather sternly.

"Ralph, you do nothing all day but read your paper, and gossip to everybody you see. Don't be disagreeable, but do what I ask you."

"Ay, Miss Heather, 'tis all very well, but you've interrupted an important discussion, and my old legs don't work so easy as my tongue!"

"It is a mercy they don't," said Heather, severely.

Captain Vaughan looked on with a twinkle in his eye. He was a good-looking man, with rather rugged features, his moustache and hair Just tinged with grey, and a humorous, kindly look in his blue eyes.

"I am much obliged to you," he said, turning to Heather, who was just moving away; "I will go myself to get the key. My sister, as you know, has not many opportunities of getting about, and it will be a great pleasure to her, if she can accompany me."

"I am sure it will," said Heather, warmly, "and I am so glad she has you to look after her. Please give her my love."

They parted, and Heather went into the post-office. Mrs. Carpenter, who kept it, was a busy, talkative little woman. She had been a widow for twenty years, and was supposed to have saved a good bit of money.

"Well, Miss Heather, and what may you think of the captin? I have seed you a-makin' acquaintance with one another. Have he come a long while to stay? 'Tis a new thing—visitors a-comin' to this part o' the world. But so long as they pays their way, they be welcome. Do you know anythin' of their fam'ly? They seem the gentry, judgin' from the quantity of letters that do come and go!"

"I don't think we need be alarmed, Mrs. Carpenter. They are most respectable, I believe. Now, I want half a crown's worth of stamps, please, for I am in a hurry."

"You're a good customer, Miss Heather. Time you was away, I was dreadful slack! But it seems to me you write more letters to Miss Bluebell than she do to you! When be she comin' back? That Norway that be on her letters be close to the North Pole, Ralph were tellin' me. She must be dreadful cold. Is it all Polar bears and ice?"

Heather could not get away from the old woman very quickly. But when she did, she found herself walking home with her thoughts full of Ena and her brother.

"He is not a bit as I thought he would be. I pictured a grave, sad man. Life does not seem to have gone hardly with him. He does not look like a self-sacrificing hero at all. I know Ena thinks him very good. He does not show it in his appearance. But, then, neither does she. And I much prefer people who are perfectly natural, and don't look as if they were always mourning for their sins. Poor Abigail does not recommend her Christianity, and yet I dare say if she were not a Christian, she would be ten times more severe. How I envy Ena going across to Willow Pool! I wish they had asked me. I shall miss my afternoon talks with her, but she won't want me while her brother is here."

A sigh followed, and Heather felt more than usually lonely for the rest of that day.

Captain Vaughan obtained the key, and hastened back to his sister.

"Now then, Dick!" he shouted. "Bring the chair round. We must be off at once."

Dick grinned in pleased anticipation of an outing, as he tenderly assisted his mistress into her chair. He was a little bit of a character in his small way. Like an old woman for thoughtfulness and patient devotion, he attended on Ena as well as any trained nurse could have done. His manner to outsiders was at all times a trifle supercilious. "My family, my lady, my sitivation," were quoted constantly, and no one's opinion's or wishes were consulted in the least before his mistress's.

He had not been two days at the farm before he marched into Annie's kitchen—

"Here, missis," he said, his small nose well in the air, "we can't stand this state o' things. Them filthy pigs are a-gruntin' and a-walkin' past my lady's window, and are distractin' her h'observation from the view. They must be got rid of, missis, at once. Pigs is meant to be kept out o' sight, and certingly not to be marched past a lady's window all the mornin'!"

Obliging Annie felt a great awe of this small boy, and promised that the pigs should be kept away. But when it came to the fowls being tabooed the orchard, she went to Ena in perturbation of mind, which was at once set at rest by that lady. Dick was called in, and admonished. But whenever he could get a chance of administering a snub to the farmer's wife, he quickly made use of it.

"I think I have seen your young friend, Ena," said Captain Vaughan, as he leisurely walked by her chair across the green meadows smoking his pipe.

"Have you? Where?"

"In the village. It was she who told me of the locked gate, and got me this key."

"And what did you think of her?"

"She seemed a nice little girl."

His tone was indifferent.

"She is a dear child," said Ena, warmly. "It is not many girls who would give up a society life in town, and come and live alone in the country because the poor people needed her care."

"A healthier life for her," said her brother. "I should not think there need be much self-denial in it!"

"Ah, but you don't know her circumstances. She has a twin sister from whom she has never been separated before. It was a terrible wrench. The sister would not come with her."

"I suppose it was a question of principle?"

"Yes—or, rather, of duty. She was spending too much money, she told me, and if she had not come home, their charities here would have had to be stopped. It was very noble of her, I think, for she had no better motive to assist her, and was enjoying her life immensely. She wants me to stay with her a short time before I leave. What do you think?"

"Just as you like. I expected you to return with me, but if you're happy and well here, it would be a pity to leave."

Ena looked at him a little wistfully, then she said with her bright laugh—

"I wish you would say sometimes that you miss me, Bertram. A woman loves to feel herself of importance. And though I am such a useless appendage to your household, I am company, am I not?"

"That you are," he said quietly.

There was silence for a few minutes. Then he said, with a humorous gleam in his eye that his sister so loved to see—

"You do not make such quick friendships as a rule. What is the fascination about this young person?"

"I can't tell you. I took an interest in her from the very first, before I saw her. My landlady was full of 'the young ladies,' and 'Miss Heather's wonderful business head.' She superintends all the business of the farm, and the farmer looks upon her decisions with the greatest respect. It is such a lonely life for a young girl. And she is so brave and natural about it. I like to see her little regal ways with the villagers; she comes to me like a sweet fresh sunbeam, and if you really get into deep conversation with her, you would be astonished at her powers of thought. Then, too, lately, well, I think I have helped her by my own experience these past two years. She was dazed and bewildered between the fashionable religion of London society and the austere and puritan belief of her two old servants, who are Quakers by persuasion."

"And how long do you propose to stay with her?"

"I thought perhaps a fortnight. This air seems to give me fresh life, after London."

"But the Priory is not London."

"No; and I am longing to be home again, and settle down quietly for the winter."

"Well, extend your stay to the fortnight. Then I have to go up to town, so it will suit me just as well to go now."

Heather was pleased the next day to receive a little note of invitation to tea at the farm. She went, and found that Captain Vaughan's being there did not diminish her enjoyment of her friend's society, though she had a feeling that he was only kindly tolerant of her presence.

"The natives of this part are a constant entertainment," Captain Vaughan said presently. "The old postman told me this morning that he had lived for fifty years in one house, and considered that the bulk of his neighbours had very little good in them at all, but that outside Thornlea Vale they were absolutely and entirely evil."

"That is Watty," said Heather, smiling. "He has had a sad life. He was brought up by a drunken stepmother, and was engaged to be married for ten years to a girl who jilted him in the end."

"Could not wait any longer?"

"Yes, and I hardly wonder; Watty will never hurry himself. However, he is married now to a very nice woman. He is a pessimist, and glories in it. He does not approve of your coming here at all, and told Mrs. Carpenter at the post-office that all diseases and crimes were introduced into country villages by wayside lodgers."

Ena's rippling laugh rang out.

"Dick came back from the post-office purple in the face yesterday. He said he had been 'giving information to ignorant folks as to the ways and h'ideas of their betters.' Can't you fancy him holding forth, Bertram?"

"I back him to hold his own anywhere, young scamp!"

"Of course, I know the narrowness and bigotry of our village strikes every outsider," said Heather, thoughtfully. "But, after life in town, it is very refreshing to return to. We are like one big family here. Our interests, our doings and sayings, are all important to every one. I am always sure of sympathy if my usual letter from Bluebell does not come, from at least three or four of the villagers. In London, it struck me when first I went there, how far divided the classes were. How uninterested everybody was. I think if I were to be doomed to a lonely life, I would live it in the country and not in the town."

"It is bad training," said Captain Vaughan, with a comical shake of his head. "We need to find our own level, and not be exalted into little popes, whose every word is of importance. Of all dogmatic, obstinate, narrow-minded beings on the face of the earth, give me a country squire!"

"No, no," cried Heather, "I will not have you abuse us country-folk. I found the men in town infinitely more self-satisfied and egotistical than any I had seen near home. Of course," she added truthfully, "I have not seen very many in this part, but everybody in town gets to look and talk as if it is too much trouble to breathe, and they are great martyrs because they have to do it."

"The best specimens of manhood do not frequent London drawing-rooms," said Captain Vaughan, dryly.

"Now, I will not have either of you begin running down our neighbours," said Ena, briskly. "We will change the conversation. Let us remember we are in the country, and choose a fresh and breezy topic."

Heather returned home that evening with a flush on her cheek and light in her eye. Ena had consented to come and pay her a visit.